


In Your Hands

by Measured_Words



Category: Diablotin
Genre: Alchemy, Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Racism, Communication, Consentual Sex Pollen, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mad Science, Magic, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, Shadar-Kai, Trust, War flashbacks, domestic terrorism, vow of silence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 03:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: When B'razvi is caught in a Colour Guard attack, he turns to Irrez to take care of him, in more ways than one.





	In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/gifts), [Longpig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longpig/gifts).



Substance was not the kind of shop that ever had a steady stream of customers. The Shade was not exactly a cosmopolitan shopping district. It was someplace people lived, and where others came for very specific purposes. Usually this meant it was fine to leave the counter unattended, and let the bell alert Irrez if anyone should wander in. On days when he was occupied with other matters, whether with special clients, or working on more delicate chemistry that required his full attention, B'razvi would take his place tending to any street traffic. The silent monk was not the best salesman, but it was rare that any customers of note came in at these times.

It was an afternoon, sunny and quiet. Irrez was in his lab preparing a special order for a client, and Brazvi was in the shop, restocking some of the more popular minor alchemies sources from other producers – sunrods, birth control, various party favours. The bell rang and he looked up, ready to slide over behind the counter to provide assistance. But the person at the door was not a customer – he wore the rainbow armband of the Colour Guard, and was holding a flask in hand that was fizzing ominously.

Irrez had made the laws very clear – inside the shop, they could respond how they liked who anyone who got violent and it would be considered self-defense or in defense of their property. Once the person was evicted from the shop, a different set of rules applied. This had only happened rarely, but when it had, they usually would prevent that eviction long enough to ensure that whoever was giving them trouble would not be doing so in the future. But in this case, B'razvi had bad a feeling about this situation, and decided that it would be best to keep this out of the street.

The man started to speak, but B'razvi was already in motion. Interception imminent, the man flung the flask just as B'razvi forcibly ejected him from the doorway, sending him sprawling into the street. Seeing the shadar-kai towering over him looking cross was sufficient dissuasion to trying anything further, and he skittered back through the mud, scrambled to his feet with a look of fear, and took off. 

It might have been nice to follow and give him the response he truly deserved, but there was a chance that he was only a distraction, and B'razvi didn't want to leave the shop unattended. He turned back to check on the store.

The flask had crashed into one of the displays, knocking over an assortment of bottles. They'd mostly landed intact, but this meant little, as something in the mess flashed brightly and exploded. 

For a moment, he was back in a muddy field in Psyra, the smell of ordinance and strange gasses choking the air. But that wasn't true. He was in Diablotin, in the shop. This was some other kind of assault, and he was the only one here to deal with it.

Irrez kept several things behind the counter in case of emergencies, including potent antidotes, neutralizers, and capsules that expanded into a fire-extinguishing foam. B'razvi slid over to grab some of these, scattering them over the mess. The flames died down, but the mixture of reagents had produced a noxious purple vapour that continued to pour out from the corner of the shop. The door was still open, and most was being carried off by the draft. It was still thick enough that he was starting to feel light-headed even as he scrambled for neutralizers and, maybe more importantly, the emergency gas mask.

He donned it quickly, memories of war training as fresh in the moment as Irrez's more recent drills. It did help. The tightness in his chest felt better as soon as he started breathing the filtered air. Despite the neutralizers working to absorb any remaining toxins in the shop, though, his light-headedness increased, and he felt dizzy.

Irrez would know what to do. He'd take one look at the mess, the broken vials, the colour of the smoke, the ashy grey the neutralizers were turning, and know exactly what B'razvi needed. He turned to the rear of the shop…

* * *

Irrez was very focused when he was working. His favourite things to create were poisons, especially the ones that required the closest attention to detail to maintain their potency. Isolating components that could be legally sold but easily combined by his clients was a rewarding challenge, and required as much nuance as researching the laws the humans had written and figuring out how to practice his trade within their boundaries.

What he was working on today wasn't a poison. Well, technically it was, but no one had asked about that. It was something for a researcher at the Castallia who was interested in fertilizing compounds. She'd heard about Irrez through his contacts there, and while it wasn't his usual work, the human had some interesting and potentially very profitable ideas. If this worked out, he could do away with the walk-in shop and focus purely on research contracts and his more elite and esoteric contacts, which would suite him very well.

He was crouched down to watch the increments in his titration tube as he filled a beaker with a precise amount of reagent to the flask, when suddenly the lab door crashed open. He started at the sudden intrusion, and an extra drop dripped from the apparatus. He stopped it quickly, turning in alarm and annoyance at whoever had dared intrude on him, biting words already crawling across his tongue.

But it was B'razvi - stumbling, shaking, his dark grey skin turned an unhealthy ash. Irrez set down his beaker and rushed to help him. He caught a whiff of something from the hallway to the shop, and something acrid off the monk's clothes – there'd been some kind of accident. He closed the door and activated the seals. These were meant to keep vapours from escaping the lab, but they could serve the opposite function for now. He helped B'razvi down to the floor, stripping off his mask to check his breathing, knowing the air in here should be clean.

"B'razvi, can you hear me?" He was breathing but it was shallow and rasping, and his eyes were unfocused. But he squeezed Irrez's hand. This was good. He squeezed back, then squeezed the end of one of his fingernails to check the circulation. It was not what he might have hoped, but he was in in immediate crisis, and Irrez needed more information to know how to proceed. "I need to see what this is, okay? I'll be right back…I'll be fine. But you have to let go of me now." B'razvi's grip was crushing, especially when he was shaking, which was happening more than Irrez would have liked. All the more reason to extricate himself and go see what had happened as quickly as possible. He sipped his hand free, laid it for a moment on B'razvi's forehead, and grabbed his mask and goggles.

The air had cleared, thanks to the shop door having been left open. He closed it, taking a look outside to see if there was anyone around who might have been able to tell him anything, but there was no one. Probably the street had emptied when smoke had started pouring from the alchemist's shop. Instead, he turned to look at the debris on the floor. Most of it was stock, none of which should have caused such a reaction, even if mixed. But the remains of he unfamiliar flask gave him pause. He looked up from where he was crouched – it was in a direct line to the door. They'd been attacked, and B'razvi had suffered for it. A cold shiver of raged passed through him. Whoever had done this would pay, but for now, he had other concerns, and a good idea of what was afflicting his partner.

* * *

B'razvi remembered collapsing in the shop, with Irrez to support him. He remembered Irrez saying something and leaving. But maybe that wasn't right, because he snapped to with a shock, and Irrez was right there, holding something under B'razvi's nose and calling his name.

"There we are, that's good." Irrez took his hand again. "There was quite a combination of things in that mess. Some tinctures and other things. I can give you something to help, but you will still feel…not yourself. Your thoughts may be very clear, or your vision very sharp, or you may find that your body reacts to things in a way that is, ahh, not usual for you. I don't think you'll die without help, but this would make you feel better sooner. Or I can go find someone else who can clear this all out of your system with magic much more quickly."

That he did not want, and he squeezed Irrez's hand more tightly.

"Alright then. You need to tell me if you want me to give you this elixir, and that you understand that there will be side effects."

B'razvi felt wrecked, and the alternative didn't sound *so* bad. Irrez would be with him, and there was no one he trusted more. He knew exactly what Irrez was capable of, yes…but Irrez needed him. Cared for him. B'razvi nodded, tightening his grip on Irrez as another wave of tremors passed through him.

Irrez winced, but did not let go. "One more thing, my friend – for you. If your….Hmm. If you start to feel like you need to fuck, do you want me to stay or go?"

B'razvi's cohort from creche had joked that he'd become a monk and sworn off so many other things so he'd never have to have sex, either. Not that celibacy was an expectation of his order, per sey, but he had a much easier to navigate shadar-kai society by letting people assume. One of the reasons he'd liked the Colour Plane and had felt comfortable in the army was that there were many fewer social expectations around fucking. It just wasn't something that came naturally to him, and had felt awkward and unnatural the few times he'd tried it. The idea of wanting sex was alien and disconcerting, and under normal circumstances he would surely have declined. But.

Another dizzying wave coursed through him, and with it came dark thoughts of lying helpless in the trenches. Irrez had been there then. He was here now. And B'razvi didn't want to suffer this, or anything else, alone. Ill and apprehensive, he hugged Irrez's hand against his chest and nodded.

"Alright," he said, laying his other hand across B'razvi's forehead. "I'll work quickly."

He extricated himself again, but didn't stray far from sight as he gathered supplies. Usually he preferred to take his time, working with methodical precision. Now he was true to his word, careful but hurried. B'razvi had seen him do this before, when they'd been pressed for time during the war. He'd complained then about being rushed, whereas now he worked silently, his brow furrowed in concentration.

B'razvi tried to focus on Irrez, but his vision kept blurring, fading in and out with the shaking which was getting worse, and more draining, and his stomach was roiling in protest as well. Every time he thought he might just pass out, he was jolted back to consciousness by anther violent fit, or a fresh wave of nausea. When Irrez came back over with a shimmering vial of silver liquid, he was too weak for his body to crave anything but rest.

Irrez helped him sit up, cradling B'razvi's head so that he could swallow without choking, feeding him small sips as he was able to handle them. The taste reminded him of home, and the acrid salty taste of seaweed broth at the monastery. By the time he'd finished the vial, the nausea had passed and he no longer felt so enervated. His vision was clearing, and the shaking had mostly subsided. He would have liked to sleep, and tried to sit up further, gesturing at the stairs that led to their apartment above.

Irrez took the hint, helping him to his feet. It was almost a mistake, as his vision tunneled again. He leaned heavily on Irrez, who grunted at the extra weight, but B'razvi managed to stay up for now. His heart rate was all over the place, though, and he was starting to feel warm. As Irrez had predicted, his vision was turning very sharp as it cleared.

He took one step forward, then another, and they made their way slowly up the stairs. He felt less like death was upon him, but still very strange, as though his skin was on fire. He felt better where he was leaning on Irrez though. Maybe once they got to their room, they could lay down together and… oh. Was this what he'd meant? Irrez was focused on getting up the stairs, his mouth turned down in concentration, strands of his bright green hair falling over his eyes in a very distracting way. He turned as he realized B'razvi had stopped, frowning slightly in annoyance or concern, but it didn't matter. B'razvi was sure just what he needed to make all these strange feelings stop – he leaned Irrez back against the wall and kissed him.

Irrez was surprised, but willing, parting his mouth after only a moment. He was by far the more experienced kisser, but B'razvi had always been a kinetic learner, and he was catching up fast. His need was increasing, but his body's reactions were unfamiliar, and he translated his need for _more_ into harder kissing, pinning Irrez against the wall by his hands. He wasn't feeling his best, but he was still strong enough to overpower the alchemist. Irrez slipped free after another moment, breathless and dishevelled. 

"B'razvi," he panted, wiping his face. "Upstairs."

He wanted to scoop Irrez up and carry him the rest of the way, but was still too weakened to pull it off. He picked up the pace as much as he could, trying to stay focused on that chance to lie down together, and then…. Whatever happened next. Despite his body's growing need, the idea of sex still made him anxious. But Irrez would take care of him. He trusted that as much as he needed it.

Their bed was a comfortable size for the two of them to sleep in, and until now that was all they'd ever done in it. Now they fell back to kissing, B'razvi working to undress his partner, stripping him of his ridiculous colour plane clothing. It had too many fasteners and too many layers. His garb was much simpler, and Irrez had less trouble to help him free. Soon they were naked, side by side, and B'razvi held Irrez against him as he'd been craving. They were both hard, and it was unfamiliar but not, at the moment, unpleasant. He just wasn't sure exactly how to proceed. More kissing, certainly, and touching, sure, and then…?

Irrez ran a finger along his jaw, all of his focus locked on B'razvi. Without even looking at what he was doing he reached up and quickly loosened B'razvi's hair from its usual top knot. "There," he said, taking the moment to catch his breath. "All right?"

B'razvi nodded. He didn't really feel all right – he didn't feel like himself very much at all. Like Irrez had said, his body wanted things that were not usual for him. But he felt safe, if strange, and grateful for Irrez's presence, and his hand on his thigh. 

"You want me to touch you?" When B'razvi hesitated, he added, "we don't have to go so far as fucking. There's lots of things we can do."

That was a relief, but not the only relief he needed. Reassured, he took Irrez's hand, and brought it down towards his cock. He was apprehensive right up until Irrez touched him, those careful fingers wrapping around his width and holding him until he nodded desperately for more. Irrez stroked him slowly, and Brazv'i gasped. This was different than it ever had been before – he'd always felt disconnected from his body and its urges, and set them aside easily. This time there was no divide. He knew it was the chemicals affecting him, and that maybe it wouldn’t have mattered who he was with, but it wasn't just anyone – it was Irrez. Irrez making him feel this way…feel good.

Irrez had been watching his work, hand moving gently on B'razvi's cock, but he looked back up at his partner's face, watching his reactions to make sure he was okay. B'razvi could see the way his gaze lingered, eyes heavy-lidded and pupils wide, the controlled heavy breathing, the stiffness of his own member – he wanted this too. That was expected, he figured. All this kissing and everything else. He knew Irrez wasn't like him. Not exactly. He had sex sometimes, or he had, in the war. He had lovers' marks: a curling scar that ran along the right side of his chest. Another, more geometric, on the inside of his thigh. Some of his piercings too, maybe. But these were all old. He'd never bothered B'razvi for sex, and B'razvi had practically had to push him into sharing a bed. But these were thoughts to examine another time. Now, B'razvi pressed his lips against Irrez's, claiming the focus of that desire.

The sensation of Irrez's hand moving against him was feeding his need, but not satiating it. B'razvi tried moving his hips, and that helped, but there was a building tension that he didn't think could be eased by touch alone. He pulled back from the embrace, needy and anxious, not knowing what would help, or how to ask for it. But Irrez seemed to know. He settled B'razvi back on the bed and slipped back down the mattress, stroking his thighs before lowering his head slowly down to B'razvi's aching cock, waiting until he nodded to close his mouth around it.

It felt incredible, slick and tight, Irrez's tongue probing him in ways he'd never really experienced before. He couldn't help himself, tangling his fingers in that absurd green hair, moving him and showing him just what he needed. It didn't take long for the tension to peak now, and with it a garbled moan that came closer to breaking his vow of silence than anything else had in many years. The release washed through the core of him, a wave of pleasure that felt as alien as relieving. The physical evidence Irrez swallowed down without complaint. 

When he pulled back, Brazvi felt more like himself again, though he was still acutely aware of how Irrez looked, and looked at him, and of the drops of fluid leaking from the end of his still-hard cock. He was shifting back up to lay with him, leaning on his side to give him space. But was space what he wanted?

"How do you feel?" Irrez's voice was raspier than usual, whether choked with restrained lust, or just from being out of practice at fellatio. "Better?"

He could have nodded, or taken his hand, and left it at that. But if just for now, he wanted to give back that same feeling of pleasure that he'd received. Tentatively at first, B'razvi reached for him, pulling him into a kiss, slipping a hand along the scar on his thigh and tracing it upwards to take hold of his cock. Irrez moaned against him, then buried his face against his neck. B'razvi didn’t have much experience in what he was doing, but Irrez's cock was hot and heavy in his hand, slick with clear precum. He stroked him firmly and quickly, playing distractedly with the rings and bar in his pierced ear, taking the sounds elicited as a good sign. The hot breaths against his neck were getting shallower, and Irrez gripped him tightly, mumbling something against his skin. All B'razvi could catch was his own name, and moments later Irrez shuddered against him, come spilling through B'razvi's fingers and across the blanket. 

There was rather a lot of it, though he was no good judge of what was normal. He wiped his hand clean on another corner of the covers while Irrez caught his breath. Then, by mutual agreement they kicked the soiled blanket aside, and lay down together on the sheets beneath. B'razvi, for one, was feeling the energy they'd spent, coupled with his earlier weakness, and curled up around an unprotesting Irrez to sleep it off. He thought of the scars on Irrez's body as he dozed off, thinking about just what they meant to each other…

* * *

Irrez, though relaxed and comfortable, didn't drift off so easily. He'd put out of mind how intense it could be to have sex, even sex as basic as what they'd done, with someone he actually cared about. He didn't understand how it was different, only that it was, and that it was so much better. Part of it was no doubt the pheromones that B'razvi had gotten into, but it wasn't just that. It was him. What'd they'd shared had been a rare and precious thing, and he wanted to sit with the experience rather than putting it out of mind for rest he didn't really need. He didn't want this to change things between them, not and risk the comfort they'd found. It would be difficult to set aside the desire they'd awoken, but he would do it. He'd done it before, and for much less reward.

Eventually Irrez fell into a light slumber. He woke with B'razvi looking down at him, hand resting on his chest over the mark he'd received from Kri'stia so long ago. He smiled gently, then took Irrez's hand and placed it on his own chest, his look turning hopeful.

But Irrez slipped his hand free, using it to tuck some of B'razvi's long pretty hair back out of his face. "You big idiot," he said. "After everything we've been through, now you ask for this? Because we fucked?" He shook his head, frowning at B'razvi's hurt look. "We can trade marks another time. When its more right for us. Besides, I don't have anything ready for it." They did sell scarring paste, of course, in the shop downstairs. Ahh, yes – he shop. He smiled thinly. "Maybe after we find whatever fool dared to attack us, and make them pay…."


End file.
